


You Packed Your Bags & You Ran Away

by relised



Series: RIP; You & Me [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Misunderstandings, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 00:45:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16148999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relised/pseuds/relised
Summary: The only good thing about the Demodog's, Billy thought as he leaned heavily on his crutches inside the gym, was the fact that his dad left him alone for the most point. That may have been because he was a household name from all the gossip going around town, the boy who was attacked in the woods in an effort to save his sister. The attention kept his father from getting too physical, but it didn't stop the verbal abuse.***After Billy tries to run away, Neil finds him and beats him bad. Somehow Billy finds himself at Steve's, and wouldn't it just be easier to stay there forever?Highly suggest you read part 1 first!





	You Packed Your Bags & You Ran Away

**Author's Note:**

> Each part will more than likely get longer, so I hope you like this! 
> 
> Title is from the song "RIP" by 3OH!3

  
The only good thing about the Demodog's, Billy thought as he leaned heavily on his crutches inside the gym, was the fact that his dad left him alone for the most point. That may have been because he was a household name from all the gossip going around town, the boy who was attacked in the woods in an effort to save his sister. The attention kept his father from getting too physical, but it didn't stop the verbal abuse.

That afternoon alone Neil had called him faggot and that he was wasting his fucking time sitting on the bench to watch the basketball game he couldn't play in. His dad had showed up in the parking lot after school as he pulled his bag from his trunk, hissing that he wants Billy home as soon as possible and that he had better bring Max with him. He had climbed out of his car, twisting Billy's arm slightly as he did so. Billy nodded, mumbling he'd be home as soon as the game was over before shaking his arm free of his father's grip. Neil had glared at him as he slowly crossed the parking lot, the stitches in his leg throbbing in pain.

"Hey man," Harrington said, pulling his jersey over his head, brushing his hair out of his face. Billy nodded in response as he dropped heavily onto the locker room bench. "How's the leg?"

"Still hurts like a bitch," Billy grimaced, propping his leg up. "But the stitches should come out next week." Steve nodded, a smirk crossing his face.

"Good, then you can help us save the world." Billy snorted, rolling his eyes.

"What, this supposed to be my fucking redemption arc? Beat your face in then work with you to beat those...those things? I hate to break it to your princess; even then no one in this washed up town is going to want me."

Steve hesitated, his hand gripping the door frame leading from the locker room. He met Billy's eyes and Billy's stomach jumped in his throat at the expressing across Steve's face.

"Maybe I do," he called, winking before he ran into the gym with the rest of the team.

That boy was going to be the death of him, Billy thought as he slowly made his way to the bleachers, pulling himself into the second row behind the team so he could prop up his leg.

Ever since he woke up in the hospital, Steve had been spending more time with him. They didn't really talk much, just splitting a pack of cigarettes between them while sitting on the football bleachers after school. Every once in a while, Billy would ask questions about what had happened the year before, trying to understand what he had somehow gotten himself wrapped up in. Steve would answer with his voice barely louder than a whisper, as if if he talked louder it would happen again.

Billy didn't have the heart to tell him it was already happening again.

Although he would never admit it, Billy liked spending time with Steve. He hadn't really made any friends in Hawkins, instead blowing into town like a hurricane trying to lie his way to the top. That is what high school was supposed to be, right? He fought to prove that he wasn't just another meat head, fucking his way from one girl to another. Because that's what's expected of a straight teen in Indiana. It kept him from thinking of warm days under the pier in San Diego, his surfboard pressed into the sand as he pushed himself into a warm tanned body.

He had tried to call Josh once after they moved to town, trying to explain what Neil had done, why he had to leave. How Neil was keeping him on a short leash even here clear across the country from him.

Josh had told him to take the short leash and hang himself from it.

Steve was different, though. Steve didn't know his past, didn't know about the boy who would fuck him under the pier. He didn't know about the boy that Neil had almost killed, held a knife to his throat and threatened to gut him like a pig if he ever came near his son again. His son wasn't a fucking faggot and he wasn't going to have someone like this queer corrupting him.

Later, in the hospital after Neil had almost killed Billy himself, Max had whispered how sorry she was from a chair pulled close to the bed. She tightened her grip on his arm as he stared forward with dead eyes, promising she hadn't meant to tell Neil about Josh, hadn't meant to imply that there was anything going on between them, hadn't thought that Neil would ever do something like this. She had, though, and that's how Neil found him with Josh's dick in his mouth that day.

Things were different with Steve. Steve was straight, in love with a girl who called him bullshit and left him for another guy. Steve, the guy who spent most of his life as the center of attention, was now the boy begging for a minute of peace and calm. He didn't want any more from Billy than his pack of cigarettes and quiet nights on the bleachers where no one was asking anything from him. And that was something Billy could do.

Billy watched as Steve dribbled the basketball down the court, the opposing player pressing in to his side causing him to stumble. Billy swallowed his sigh, rolling his eyes.

"Harrington! Plant your damn feet!" He called, snorting to himself as Steve grinned. Seriously, Steve Harrington was going to be the death of him.

***  
Billy sat on the exam table in his boxers, his eyes clinched shut as the doctor removed the stitches from his leg. Neil sat on a chair near by and Billy could feel the annoyance fuming off his father. The whole trip to the hospital the man bitched about having to take time off work to take him to the doctor, stating it was stupid the hospital wouldn't work on him unless a guardian was there. Susan had offered to take him but Neil was already out the door, Billy close behind with his head ducked.

"This looks like it's healed pretty good," Dr. Davis said, pulling the last of the stitches out around his ankle. The wound still looked angry, his calf looking lumpy and distorted. "It might still be a little tender, so try not to over do it. And keep using that cream I prescribed. With 50 stitches, it was going to scar no matter what but the cream should help keep it from getting too bad."

Billy nodded, pulling his jeans on as the doctor talked to his father. Even with his back turned, he could feel his father's anger rolling off of him in waves. It had been weeks since the man had had his favorite punching bag and Billy knew what was coming that night once Max was in bed.

"Now, if there's any concern, or if it starts acting up, give me a call. You were extremely lucky to get bit by a wild animal and not end up with rabies. I don't think you'd be that lucky twice."

"Don't worry, I wont be going out there any time soon." Dr. Davis laughed, slapping a hand across Billy's back as he lead the pair out of the room.

Billy kept silent in the truck on the way home, fingers drumming on his leg anxiously. Neil pulled in front of the house, turning in his seat to look at his son. Billy met his eyes before ducking his head.

"We'll talk about this tonight. You'll have Max home by 6:30. You hear me? No later than 6:30."

"Yes, sir," Billy said quietly, letting himself out of the cab, plan already forming in his head.

***  
"Hargrove!" A voice called behind him, and Billy turned to see Steve weaving his way through the hallway. He leaned against the wall, letting the shorter boy catch up. "No crutches! About time!"

"Still hurts like a bitch," Billy mumbled, focusing on not limping.

"Ha, I bet. Listen, I can't meet up after school. I have to take the shit heads to the arcade, but we can meet up later? My parents are gone, can always go to my place?" Steve stopped at his locker, glancing at Billy as he spun the dial on the lock.

"I, uh, can't do later," Billy said with a shrug. "Old man wants a family meeting. Catch you later Harrington." Steve watched as he pushed off the wall, frowning when Billy pushed through the doors at the end of the hall. Assuming the boy had gone for a smoke, Steve just shrugged before returning to class.

But he didn't see Billy the rest of the day. Normally they passed each other in the hallway, nodding to each other in the lunch room. Even with his leg, Billy had been sitting in on practice to make sure he knew all the plays. Even when Steve couldn't see him, he could normally hear Billy's loud voice carrying it's way over the crowds in the hall.

When the final bell rang, Steve made his way to the parking lot to meet the kids at his car. Billy's Camaro was gone and Max stood nervously next to Lucas.

"Hey Steve, can you give Max a ride, too?" Dustin asked, climbing in the passenger seat. "Billy left early."

Steve met Max's eye, the girl looking terrified. He opened his mouth to ask why she was so worried, but she shook her head minutely. With a sigh, Steve nodded, gesturing to the car.

"Let's go, Shit Heads."

When they hit the arcade, the boys ran inside, leaving Max hesitating by the car. Steve rolled down the driver side window, leaning out to talk to her.

"Do you know something?" He asked quietly, and the red head shrugged slightly.

"Neil hasn't really done anything to him since he got hurt," she said, hugging her skate board to her chest. "I think he's scared since his stitches are out. Neil's kind of predictable in his unpredictability."

Steve cursed under his breath, nodding slightly. "Listen, if shit gets bad tonight, call me. I can...I don't know, I can get him out of there for the night." Max gave him a small smile, leaving to catch up to the Party.

***  
The second he had left Steve, Billy had gotten in his car and peeled out of the parking lot. He had had enough time to grab a handful of clothes after his dad had dropped him at the house, heading to the school to keep up appearances. It wouldn't do to have the school call his dad for an unexplained absence before he had a chance to escape.

The gas tank in the Camaro was full and he had enough cash stashed in a shoe box in his room to get a hotel room for a while before he could make other plans. He had stashed the shoe box and duffel bag in his trunk before rolling into third period, doctors note clenched in his hand. His leg killed and wanted nothing more than to take a nap, but Billy knew it was now or never. If he walked in the door that night, Neil was going to beat the shit out of him with an anger only caused by having a month of no release.

So Billy had hit the road, going south towards the state boarder, getting by on coffee and cigarettes. He was getting close to Henderson, Kentucky when he hit a deep pothole that popped a tire and broke the back axle of the Camaro in one fell swoop.

"Fuck," he moaned to himself as he climbed out of the car, the flashlight he kept in the glove box in his hand. Billy crouched towards the back of the car, shining the light at the damage. Even if he changed the tire, he wouldn't be able to do anything about the axle without a lift or proper tools. He kicked the back tire before pulling his bag from the trunk, tucking the shoe box inside, and started the twenty minute walk into town.

This was an expense he hadn't expected and on a good day he figured that it would take a garage a couple days to fix. A couple days of staying within two hours of Hawkins. A couple days that his father could easily find him. The thought alone made his skin crawl. He quickened his pace as much as he leg allowed, hoping to get to town before the garage closed, hoping it would get him out of here faster. The fresh pink skin twinged as he walked, giving him something to focus on other than his fear. There was a garage just toward the city limits of Henderson and Billy sighed with relief when he saw the lights were still on, a bearded man sweeping outside the open garage bay.

"Hey man," he said, nodding a greeting as he approached the bay. "I, uh, I snapped an axle a couple miles outside of town. Is it possible to get it towed tonight? Any clue on how long it might take to fix?" The man leaned his broom against the brick wall. He seemed to size Billy up before nodding.

"You got here just in time, kid," the man who had Alex printed into his uniform. "I was just getting ready to lock up. Lucky for you, I've got nothing better to do tonight." Alex lead him to the tow truck. Billy climbed into the passenger seat, letting his head fall back with a tired sigh as Alex pulled out of the parking lot.

"It might take me a couple days to get you back up and running," the man said, scratching at his beard with a hand that clenched a cigarette. Something deep in Billy's mind wondered if he'd ever set his beard on fire. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. More important things to worry about, he scolded as Alex continued. "I'm a little short staffed and got about three cars in front of you. And we're the only garage in town. It's what, Wednesday? I can for sure have you out of here Monday, Saturday if it's an emergency."

"It's an emergency," Billy immediately gushed out, flinching slightly when Alex turned to look at him with question in his eyes.

"What you got yourself wrapped up in, kid? You look like you've got a monster chasing you," he asked, keeping his voice light as he watched Billy drum anxiously on his legs.

"You have no idea..." Billy murmured under his breath before sighing. "Look, I've just really got to get out of here. I was supposed to be on the other side of Kentucky before I stopped for the night. This wasn't apart of the plan. It's...it's important. I've got to get to California before I run out of money, or he..I just need to get out of here."

"Hey, calm down, kid. It's going to be okay," the older man said gently, jumping out of the truck to hook Billy's car up to the tow truck. Billy climbed out slowly, bending over to rub his leg slightly, watching as the Camaro was pulled onto the flatbed. As Alex locked the car onto the bed, he kept an eye on Billy. Finally he ducked his head back to his work and called over the truck. "You got someplace to stay tonight?"

Billy chewed on his lower lip before shrugging. "I was going to try to find a hotel or something."

"I've got a better plan," Alex said, gesturing for Billy to get back into the truck. "I've got a room up above the shop that I rent out sometimes. You can stay, rent free, if you help me out around here a bit. You know anything about cars?"

"I, uh, yeah. My uncle used to own a garage out in Cali before he died. He taught me everything I know." Billy swallowed thickly, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"Perfect. I'm short 2 men this week. You help me and my kid out around the garage, I'll comp the room and the repair. Save your money. That work for you?" The ride back into town had been quick and Alex was already backing the tow truck into the garage parking lot, glancing at Billy out of the corner of his eyes.

"That would be perfect."

****  
Friday night Steve stood leaning against his car while the kids argued over who was going to play Dig Dug first as they ran into the arcade. Billy had been gone a little over two days and it was the talk of the town. Max hesitated before the turning back to the car.

"Max, lets go!" Lucas called out, holding the door to the arcade open. She waved at him.

"I'll be in in a minute. I just gotta ask Steve something!" Lucas threw his arms in the air in exasperation before letting the door shut behind him.

"He's never been gone more than one night before," Max said, her blue eyes wide as she moved closer to the drive side. "I mean, he's ran away before, but Neil's always found him within 24 hours. I think he might have finally did it."

"Has your step-dad called the cops? Reported him missing?"

"My mom went in this morning to do so. Neil told her not to, but...I think she thinks she's helping..." Max turned away, kicking s near by rock across the parking lot.

"What do you mean she thinks she's helping?"

"Helping Neil, not Billy. She never stands up for Billy when Neil...When Neil does what he does. He's never hit me, and I don't think he'd ever hit my mom, but I think she's afraid if she stands up for Billy he might turn us. Now that Billy's ran away, who is he going to lose his shit at now, you know?" Steve nodded, patting his pockets to find his pack of Camels.

"Any clue as to where he might go?" He asked, cigarette trapped between his lips as he flipped the Zippo.

"Easy. Back to San Diego. Billy's made for the beach, not a hell hole in the middle of nowhere where it's freezing 75% of the year." Normally, Steve would have argued that Hawkins wasn't that bad, but lately he had to agree.

"Yeah, well here's hoping he makes it," Steve said, holding his cigarette up like he's toasting her. Max gave him a small smile before running to catch up with her friends.

Steve remained leaning against his car, stomach pressed to the driver side window with his arms resting on the roof. He finished his cigarette and quickly followed with two more. Nicotine was doing nothing to help the anxiety that had been running through his veins since Wednesday, since he'd watched Billy push his way out the double doors at the end of the hallway.

And he knew he was being ridiculous, he did know that. Never in a million years was Billy Hargrove ever going to want him the way Steve wanted him to. It was obvious in the way his rough hands shoved Steve across the basketball court, how he walked the halls like he ran the place, how Billy called him condescending things like princess, like pretty boy, like King Steve. Like Billy hadn't taken his role as King the day he drove into that town. Like Steve hadn't given up that role the day Barb died in his pool and the monsters started crowding his dreams every night.

And Steve expected him to be an ass; every fiber of Billy's being screamed 'fuck you', screamed 'don't get too close.' Steve had expected the anger that night at the Byers, expected the beating that almost ended his life, because that was Billy. And sometimes when Steve fell asleep at night he can feel those strong thighs pinning him to the floor as this freight train of a man tried to kill him.

But then Steve remembers that night in the Upside Down. He can remember the fear on Billy's face when he drug the boy out, could feel the way Billy clung to him like his life depended on. And maybe it did.

***  
Billy had hoped to leave Henderson by Friday night, but it had taken longer to fix the Camero than he had planned. Had he not been running for his life, he would have enjoyed staying in the small town. Alex's girlfriend ran the bar down the street and fed him every night, slipping him booze when the crowd died down. The other men working at the garage were all pretty easy to get along with, and Alex himself took the time to teach Billy things he didn't know while fixing his car.

He had only been there for three days, but they acted like he fit in just the same.

Billy and Alex had put the finishing touches on the car late Friday night, and his plan was to roll out early the next morning.

"Sure you can't hang around any longer?" Alex asked, pushing the portable car jacks out of the way of the door. Billy, who had been leaning against the wall smoking, let out a huff of laughter as he pushed himself forward to help bring the garage door down.

"Trust me, man, I'd stay if I could. You've been a life saver, literally. Maybe someday when shit blows over I'll stop by again. If I make it back out this way." Alex nodded, letting himself into the office to close things up.

"You're welcome here anytime, kid. I'll still be here when you get done outrunning your demons." Billy hummed in response, giving the older man a small smile. He was just ready to push through the door to finish packing his stuff upstairs when he hear the familiar rumble of a truck.

"Fuck," Billy mumbled as he watched Neil pull into the parking lot, Susan in the passenger seat. He had prayed they'd never come looking for him, but Billy had also decided that God wasn't real eight years ago. He knew Alex would lie for him, but the Camaro was sitting in the lot, California plates still on it.

"Something wrong?" Alex asked as he wiped his hands on a stained rag.

"It's...It's my old man. Looking for me..." Billy said, digging his finger nails into his palms to ground himself. He'd never told Alex why he was running away, but the man seemed to know. Before he could say anything to Billy, the glass door swung open to reveal his father.

"I'm sorry, but we're closed for the night," Alex said, immediately moving to stand between Billy and Neil. "We'd be happy to look at your vehicle first thing in the morning."

"Oh, I don't need any mechanic work," Neil said, charming as ever. "I'm actually looking for my seventeen year old son who just happens to be standing behind you. You see, poor boy got in some trouble back home and thought running away was the best choice. We've got the cops out looking for him and everything. I'd hate to get our law enforcement involved. This is such a charming little town; I'd hate to start any drama."

Billy swallowed thickly, moving out from behind Alex to his father.

"You don't have to go with him, Billy," Alex said, throwing his arm out to catch Billy across the chest before he crossed the room.

"Oh, see, that's where you're wrong. Billy here is still a minor and I am his father. He'll be coming home with me now." Neil took a step closer to the pair and Billy could already see this ending badly.

"It's okay, Alex. I'll go with him. Thanks for fixing the car, I mean it." Alex looked at him like he had lost his mind as Billy stopped in front of his father. "I just need to get my bag upstairs, sir."

"Hurry up," Neil said with a nod. "Susan and I have to work in the morning and we still have to pickup Maxine once we get back into town. And you and I have to have a talk when we get home." Billy swallowed a shudder as he moved past his father, climbing the stairs two at a time.

"You've got yourself a good kid there," Alex said, crossing his arms as he studied Neil. "He's a hard worker. I'm sure whatever trouble he thinks he's got himself into will turn out just fine." Neil nodded, leaving the office to meet Billy in the parking lot. He pointed his son to the passenger seat as he climbed in the driver seat.

"You're starting to be more trouble then you're worth," Neil said, steering them onto the highway, Susan close behind in the pick-up.

"Yes, sir," Billy said, staring at his hands in his lap.

"What have we talked about?" Neil said calmly. And Billy knew what the answer was, knew what he should say if he was smart. But instead he shrugged. Without taking his eyes off the road, Neil reached out his right hand and grabbed a chunk of Billy's hair and pulled it tightly. "What have we talked about!?" He yelled, shaking Billy slightly.

"Respect and Responsibility, sir," Billy whispered, twisting his neck to lessen the pain.

"That's right. Apparently you forgot that when you packed up your shit and tried to run away. So I guess I'm going to have to remind you of what that means when we get home, now aren't I?" He threw Billy away from him hard enough to smack his head off the window. All the while, Neil never took his eyes off the road.

' _Maybe if I'm lucky, he'll kill me tonight_ ,' Billy thought, letting the cold window calm his racing thoughts. It was going to be a long night.

***

Steve's parents had been leaving him home alone while they were off on business trips since he was in 8th grade. Mrs. Kimmelton across the street was supposed to keep an eye on him, but she was old and as long as he didn't burn the house down or have parties loud enough that she could hear them without her hearing aids, she mostly left him alone. And he never had a problem being by himself; in fact, he preferred it that way.

But then Will went missing, Barb died, Demodogs apparently became a thing and so did the Mind Flayer. And Nancy had told him he was bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Told him she never loved him even after a year. And he'd already lost all his friends, not that Tommy and Carol were that great of friends. The nightmares had started sometime between them finding Will and Will getting possessed and Steve found that getting so drunk he passed out was a much better solution then real sleep because you don't notice your nightmares if you're unconscious.

Besides, the bags under his eyes totally made him look more mysterious. Not at all sick and dying like Jonathon. Or maybe just a little bit like he was sick and dying. Whatever.

That night was his third without sleep, spending his nights smoking and worrying about what happened to Billy while he kept a death grip on the nail bat. Not that he'd admit that to anyone. But lack of sleep and nicotine was making him jumpy and when the phone rang, Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. With his heart still pounding in his ears, he answered the phone in the hall.

"Harrington residence," he said, voice shaking slightly.

"Steve, sweetie, it's Mrs. Kimmelton from across the street."

"Oh! Um, hi Mrs. Kimmelton. Is everything okay?" Steve ran a hand through his already messy hair, trying to calm his breathing.

"Well I'm just fine, sweetheart. I don't want to worry you, but I just looked out my window just now and it looks like there is something or someone laying on your sidewalk. I was going to call the police, but I just wanted to make sure it's not something you know about." Curiously, Steve pulled the cord of the phone as far as he could to look out the window. He immediately recognized the body sprawled on his front sidewalk.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath, flinching when Mrs. Kimmelton scolded him for his language. "Sorry, Mrs. Kimmelton. No need to call the cops, it's just one of my friends who had too much tonight. I'm so sorry, thanks for letting me know!"

"Well, you tell him to be careful. You boy's shouldn't be drinking anyw-."

"I'll do that, again I'm so sorry. Thank you!" Steve yelled, throwing the phone back onto it's base before running out the front door. He could see his breath as he raced down the sidewalk, falling to his knees in front of a broken boy.

"Billy! Fuck, Billy are you okay?" Billy's face looked worse than Steve's had that night at the Byers, his right arm hanging limply like his shoulder was out of place while the tip of his clavicle poked out of the broken skin. His other arm was wrapped around his stomach as if babying broken ribs. Bruises the shape hands were already forming around his neck.

"Hey, Princess," Billy croaked out, spitting out a clot of blood before going on. He gave Steve a small smile as he said:"Max said...Max said you'd try to get me out."

"Fuck, yes, yes. Can you sit up? Can you walk?"

"That's how I got here," Billy whispered, wincing at his pained vocal cords.

"Fuck," Steve hissed, helping prop Billy up. He stopped when Billy let out a high pitched whine from the back of his throat, similar to that an injured dog would make as a warning before he bit. "I've got to get you off the ground, man. You've got to help me a little, I can't carry you." Steve took a step back before crouching in front of Billy, keeping a hand on the boy's non-injured shoulder to keep him sitting upright.

"I...yeah, just give me a minute," Billy whispered, his whole body heaving as he tried to to catch his breath. With a small nod, Billy gestured for Steve to help him up. Slowly, he pulled Billy to his knees. With another nod, Steve pulled the broken boy to his feet, throwing his good arm over Steve's shoulders before he could crumble.

Even through all the pain, Billy was mostly silent next to Steve as he slowly lead them to the house. He hated it, hated how even in extreme pain Billy still had himself schooled to not let anyone see. As they approached the door, Steve leaned forward to open the second of the double doors. Billy pitched forward with him, and he finally cried out in pain as Steve caught him at the last minute.

"Shh, it's okay, I've got you. Jesus, Billy, you walked all the way over here? You live all the way across town." Steve lead Billy into the study since he figured that was his mother's least favorite couch and she'd probably not care if he got blood all over it. Probably. If she ever came home that is.

"I sat down a couple times," Billy said, his voice sounding like he had been gargling glass. "Dad took my keys, but I'd probably wreck the Camaro before I got here if he hand't."

"Fuck, okay. Just stay here. Let me go find a first aid kit. I think we have one," Steve said, letting his eyes roam over Billy's body for the worst damage. "I was a fucking clumsy kid so mom's got to have something."

"Booze..." Billy moaned and Steve nodded as he climbed to his feet.

"Yeah...Yeah I've got that, too. Just hold on." Steven ran from the room, crashing into his parent's bathroom to find the big first aid kit his mom kept under the sink. He grabbed the peroxide and some of the older towels from the linen closet before running back downstairs. He dropped everything on the coffee table before leaving the room again to find an ice pack, and a bottle of vodka.

Billy hissed as Steve pressed the ice pack to his face. Billy had a huge goose egg forming across his left temple and his eyes were starting to glaze over. He was pretty sure you weren't supposed to give alcohol to someone with a concussion, but there was no way Steve would let Billy go through this sober.

"Here," Steve said, pulling the lid off the vodka before gently pressing it into Billy's good hand. "I'm going to set your shoulder and this is going to hurt like a bitch."

"Everything already hurts like a bitch," Billy gasped out before taking another long pull from the bottle. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"I've dislocated my shoulder like five times since I was twelve. Like I said, fucking clumsy kid and always falling out of trees and wrecking my bike and shit. Dad started setting it at home after the third time. I've got this. Just...just try to relax, it's better if you're not so tense."

"As if I don't fucking have a reason to be tense," Billy whispered out, but gradually started to relax. He closed his eyes, breathing out of his nose as Steve gently gripped his wrist. With a deep breath, Steve pulled his arm until the joint popped back into place. Billy let out a cry of pain, biting his lip to keep the sound inside. "Fuck," he whispered, taking another pull from the bottle.

"You don't have to stay quiet," Steve said gently as he pulled Billy's arm into a sling he'd found in the first aid box. "How attached are you to this t-shirt?"

"It's literally soaked with blood," Billy mumbled as Steve helped him sit up slightly. Steve nodded, crossing the room to find a pair of scissors in one of the end tables.

"Good, because I'm going to have to cut it off of you." As he pulled the shirt off, Steve turned his focus to the cut where his clavicle had been poking through. Now that his shoulder was back in place, the wound didn't look as angry but it was still slowly gushing blood. "I think this might need stitches..." Steve whispered, gently pressing the edges of the wound

"No hospitals," Billy gasped out in pain, tightening his grip his left arm had on his ribs.

"I can promise you I wouldn't have set your shoulder myself if I was planning on taking you to the hospital. But Billy, this is really bleeding."

"Do you have Superglue?" Billy asked, rolling his eyes at the incredulous look on Steve's face. "I've done it before in emergency situations. It'll be fine." Steve nodded his head even though Billy's eyes were closed. In the kitchen junk drawer, he found a small bottle of Superglue and a roll of paper towels.

"I found some. What do I do?" He asked, pulling a chair from the kitchen behind him.

"Clean it out, first. Then pinch it closed and put some of that shit on it. You'll have to hold it until it dries, but it should be pretty quick," Billy rasped out, taking another long gulp of the vodka bottle. With a sigh, Steve pulled the bottle away and took a drink himself, gently swatting Billy's good hand away as he reached for it again.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be give someone with a fucking head injury alcohol. Just wait, okay?" Billy let out an exasperated growl before nodding his head, flinching as Steve pressed a paper towel soaked in peroxide to his shoulder. "How often have you had to do this by yourself?"

"I don't know," Billy grunted, letting his head fall back as Steve tried to gently pinch his skin together. "A couple times. It's not normally this bad."

"How far did you get?" Steve asked gently, as he tested the glues hold before letting go to find a bandage.

"Kentucky. Like, barely across the boarder, Kentucky. Hit a fucking pot hole and blew a tire and snapped the rear axle. Walked into the nearest town and the guy at the garage let me stay in a room he has for rent above the shop and let me work off my bill when I said I was trying to get to California on limited funds. He was a great guy; tried to get between me and dad when he found me. But I'm 17 and dad said he already had the cops involved here and that he could tell them Alex kidnapped me which is a fucking joke. But I didn't want to get him in trouble, so I just came home. I think we got home around 10. I left at 11:30."

Steve glanced at the clock to see it was reading close to 2 am and sighed heavily. As he pushed the first aid kit out of the way, he sat on the edge of the coffee table to take in Billy's broken face. Billy's deep blue eyes met Steve's before looking down as if ashamed.

"I...I wanted to get away before he got home. With the stitches and shit he hadn't done more than get in my face or pull my hair or some shit like that. Like he knew I was going to have to go back to the hospital to get the stitches out and knew I couldn't have a mark on me when I did." He tried to duck his head away as Steve pressed a new towel full of peroxide to a cut above his eye, groaning slightly when Steve caught his head. "It was going to be bad that night, Harrington. I could feel it. But I've just made it worse now, huh?"

"It's going to be okay. You don't have to go back. You can stay here, I mean my parents are never around and we have a guest room. It's fine," Steve murmured as he pressed a band aid over his forehead. "Sorry, all I have are the band aids the kids have left here and they're all ET or rainbows." Billy snorted, giving Steve a lazy smile.

"I don't think I pull them off as well as you did, pretty boy," he whispered, his voice getting more hoarse. Steve reached out a hand, tracing the bruises that were forming around Billy's throat. Billy swallowed thickly, wincing before he continued. "Max got out of bed and he got distracted before he could finish the job. He never does anything in front of her, just loud enough that she can hear it. It's probably why she got up."

"That's...I don't know what to say to that," Steve whispered in response, letting his fingers drift down to Billy's chest. He gently probed at Billy's ribs, feeling for broken bones. "I don't think they're broken. Probably just bruised. I can wrap 'em up, but I'm not sure if that's helpful?"

"They don't feel like last time," Billy grunted, letting his eyes fall shut. "Just leave 'em alone, can always wrap them up later." Steve nodded, pushing everything back into the first aid kit.

"Do you think you can get upstairs? The guest bed is so much more comfortable than the couch." He watched Billy eye the stairs, apprehension clear on the younger boy's face. "I can help you get up there." With a grunt, Billy nodded.

***

The trip upstairs was excruciatingly slow, and the boys had to pause several times for Billy to get his feet under him. He leaned heavily on Steve, his good hand squeezing so tight it left marks in Steve's arm. Finally Steve burst through the door of the guest bed and dropped Billy onto the bed as gently as he could. Billy laid back on the pillows, chest heaving as Steve ran downstairs to get the abandoned ice pack.

"Okay, put this on your face. It should help with the swelling. I'm going to set an alarm, wake you up every couple hours to make sure you don't really have a concussion. Do you want a change of clothes? Anything?" Steve asked, shaky hands already digging in his pockets for a cigarette. Billy studied Steve's face for a moment before he returned the ice pack to his own face.

"Stay with me?" He finally croaked, hating how weak he sounded. "I just...I just don't want to be alone."

The room was silent, neither boy saying anything for just a beat too long and Billy was sure that Steve had left the room. But then he heard a rustling sound as Steve pulled his now bloody shirt off and slowly climbed onto the bed next to Billy.

"I didn't really want to be alone, either, anyway," Steve whispered, curling on his side to face Billy.

"You tell anyone about this, I'm still going to kick your ass, pretty boy," Billy gasped out, squinting at Steve.

"Sure you will," Steve said with a grin, his eyes slowly falling shut. Billy was close behind.

***  
Steve woke to someone frantically ringing his doorbell and Billy looking like he was going to crawl out of his skin.

"What the fuck," Steve moaned, running a hand through his hair as he sat up. He gently pat Billy's leg in what he thought was encouragement, but quickly pulled it away when the boy flinched. "Hey, it's okay."

"What if it's my dad?" He asked, his eyes darting around the room. And really, fair point.

"I'm sure it's not your dad. Unless you left a trail of blood behind you, there's no way he's going to know where you went. But I'll go check. Just stay here." Billy glared at him as if to say where the hell am I supposed to go, but Steve was already out of the room. He quickly grabbed the nail bat he had left at the top of the stairs before taking the steps down two at a time. He glanced through the peep hole, sighing when he saw a mess of curly hair under a red white and blue hat. He swung the door open, bat resting on his shoulder as he gave Dustin an unimpressed look.

"Henderson, what the fuck?" Dustin gave him a toothy smile, gesturing behind his back.

"Hey Steve! Do you think you can drive us to the arcade?" Behind him stood the rest of the party, eager looks on their faces. Max stood back from the boys, a nervous look on her face

"You literally rode your bikes to my house. I'm pretty sure you passed the arcade to get here," he said, running a tired hand over his face.

"Yeah, but we thought maybe we'd go get lunch first at the diner over here and that maybe you'd want to come with us. My treat!" Dustin said, pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket. Steve squinted his eyes at the party who all smiled back at him.

"Fine, Shit heads. Give me a couple minutes to get ready. You're staying out here." Steve met eyes with Max, raising a brown until she understood.

"Uh, Steve? Can I use your bathroom?" She asked, shifting from one foot to the other. Steve sighed as if she was inconveniencing him before nodding. As he was closing the door behind them, he heard Dustin call out something that sounded like " _of course he lets the girl inside."_

"Billy came home last night. Neil found him and drug him back to town. It sounded really bad and when I woke up he was gone again. The Camaro is still at the house, though..." Max said in a hushed voice, as if she was afraid the boys outside would hear her and give her shit for being worried. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her torso as she stared up at Steve with wide eyes.

"It's okay, he's here. He's upstairs," Steve assured her, ushering her up the steps to the guest room. Billy was still in the bed, curled up on his side in an attempt to make himself look small.

"Billy!" Max yelled, stopping when she took in her step-brother's crumpled frame. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

"Really, Maxine?" Billy croaked and Steve couldn't stop the worried look that crossed his face. Billy's voice sounded worse than it had the night before and the light of day made the bruises across his face look even worse. Max flinched at the tone of his voice and Billy seemed to soften under his gaze. "It could have been worse," he finally whispered, locking eyes with her through his non-swollen eye. "It could have been like last time. He heard you get up and lost his momentum. So, uh... Thanks."

Max nodded slightly before moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to Billy. She didn't touch him, but Billy wouldn't have been capable of moving out of the way if she had.

"Your dad left for some business trip this morning. Mom said he'd be gone until Thursday. She said she'd call you into school, if you want, until he gets back...We can use the same story as last time?" Billy snorted, closing his eyes to avoid the way Max looked at him. With a sigh, he nodded.

"That would be...yeah, have her do it," he whispered, chewing on his lip that was already split open. "Tell her...I'll be back before he gets home. Fuck...I don't want to, but I'll be there." Max nodded, gently reaching her hand out to intertwine their pinkies like they used to before everything had gone to hell.

"Maybe she can talk to him? Talk him into letting you stay at a friends or something? Not leave town but get you out of the house?" She said quietly, searching Billy's face. Billy let out a bitter chuckle that quickly turned into a coughing fit. Clearing his throat, he opened his eyes to take in Max's sad face.

"She hasn't stepped in before, why would she now? Only ever there to clean up the mess afterwards." Max nodded dejectedly, looking over at Steve.

"We'll figure something out. Now, I'm going to go change and get Billy some aspirin. Max, go wait with the boys. I'll be out in a minute." She nodded, squeezing Billy's pinkie tighter with her own before leaving without a word. "I've apparently been appointed designated chauffeur for the day. I'm going to run the kids to lunch and the arcade, then I'll stop and see if I can find anything stronger than aspirin. And pick up some food, since I, uh, don't really eat here often. Anything specific you want?" Billy shook his head, already closing his eyes. Steve leaned the nail bat against the night stand, hesitating before opening his mouth. "I'm going to leave this here, just, you know, in case. Hopefully you don't need it."

***  
Billy was still asleep when Steve slipped back into the house several hours later with a number of grocery bags hanging from his arms. He quickly put away the collection of frozen food he'd bought since he didn't know how to cook and wasn't sure Billy would be in any shape to do so even if he knew how. Once everything was away, he grabbed a fresh ice pack, a red Gatorade, the bottle of pain killers he had found at the store and a bag full of food from Taco Bell and climbed the stairs two at a time. He winced when his foot landed on the creaky top landing, sighing when he heard Billy shifting around in the bed. Steve gently nudged the door open and smiled at a sleepy Billy. He underhand threw the bottle of aspirin and Taco Bell onto Billy's chest and the boy grunted in response.

"I'm going to try to find you a change of clothes that might fit," Steve said, placing the Gatorade on the night stand and handing Billy the fresh ice pack. "Take a couple of those and eat. Just save me a burrito."

"I'm not hungry," Billy croaked, struggling to get the lid off the aspirin. Steve sighed as he popped the lid off and tilted a couple pills into Billy's out stretched hand.

"Yeah, well you will be after this," Steve said with a grin, holding up a tightly rolled joint he had pulled from his pocket. "Just give me a minute to find you some clothes and shit."

After a long, painful process of getting Billy out of his torn jeans and into a too short pair of sweatpants Steve had found and zip-up hoodie so he didn't have to raise his arm, Steve finally crawled into the bed. He leaned back with his head on the headboard, giving Billy a lazy grin as he lit the joint. He passed the joint into Billy's shaky hand as he started pulling taco's out of the bag, dividing them between the two of them.

"So, I know you're not going to want to tell me this, but when Max said they could use the same story as last time, what did that mean?" Billy groaned, flicking ash into the ash tray Steve had sat between them, the weed calming his pounding head.

"If I tell you not to worry about it, will you leave it?" He asked, studying the burning blunt in his hand.

"Nope," Steve answered, letting the p pop as he took a big bite of his burrito. Billy sighed, leaning his head back on the wall.

"You tell anyone this, and I swear to God, Harrington, I will kill you. I was... I was seeing this guy back home. Had been for about eight months or so. His name was...Name was Josh." Steve watched the way Billy's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed thickly before continuing. "Dad didn't even know about him; I never brought him home, we only hung out at school or on the beach and Dad sure as hell wasn't going to be there. I mean no one knew about us; I didn't even know Max knew until after the fact.

"It was the first day of summer break and Josh and I were trying to get a job at one of the pop-up rental places on the beach. You know, they rent out beach chairs and umbrellas and bikes and shit." Steve nodded, remembering the time his parents had taken him to Florida when he was too young to leave at home alone. "And jobs at those places go quick in the summer, so we knew we had to be there right when they opened on the first day of break to get one. But I had promised I'd teach Max-this is when we still kind of got along- to surf over the summer break, and she took that to mean we'd start the first day. And I told her, I had to get a job but that we'd work on it later that week and that we had the whole fucking summer to do it. But being the bratty little kid she is who doesn't under consequences, she went to dad and told him I had lied and wasn't where I was supposed to be or some stupid shit."

Steve studied Billy's face as he passed the joint back. He didn't look angry; no, he just looked, well, tired. Taking a hit, Steve mumbled out "so what happened?" as he exhaled.

"She told him I was off messing around at the beach with Josh. Told him exactly where to find us. I don't...I don't think she actually meant for him to find out we were together, but...he found us under the Navy Pier, me with Josh's dick in my mouth. He went ape shit; pulled a fucking knife on Josh and threatened to kill him. Told him he wasn't going to have some faggot corrupting his only son. Let him go with a pretty deep cut in his neck, but basically fine. I...I didn't make it out that easy.

"I blacked out, I'm not really sure what he did. I came to around the time he left, and I honestly thought I was dying. It's never been that bad before. I had a bunch of broken ribs and one of them punctured my fuckin' lung and it was like I was drowning on my own blood. I don't...Can't really remember what happened. Apparently Susan called 911. I just remember Max sobbing next to me as Susan propped me up on my side so I didn't suffocate."

"Jesus," Steve gasped out, staring at Billy with wide eyes.

"Turns out that the pain of a punctured lung is nothing compared to a chest tube," Billy said bitterly, joint clinched between his lips as he bent his left arm to trace the scar between two of his ribs. "They literally shoved it in there with no warning or drugs cause I apparently really was dying. I passed out after that, woke up three days later in the ICU. And that's where the story from last time comes into play. It's not like Susan could say that my dad had literally tried to fucking kill me. Neil would not have taken well to that. So they came up with some story about how I was jumped, that I was stupid and let someone in the house and they got the drop on me. Apparently the cops believed it for awhile until the neighbor started poking around. Moved us out of town within a week of me being out of the hospital; we stayed at my uncle's in Phoenix for a couple weeks until I was healed up enough to be able to drive across country..."

"I'm...Jesus, Billy, I'm..." Steve whispered. "You should tell someone. We can tell Hop. I mean, look at you know, that should be enough evidence!"

"Stop," Billy said tiredly, shaking his head. "It's only got worse every time I tell someone. And no ones cared to do anything. I'll be 18 in October, he won't be able to do shit, then. I can make it until then." Steve opened his mouth to respond but Billy cut him off. "I'm serious, Harrington. I'm not saying shit."

Steve sighed, nodding slightly as he shook a cigarette out of his pack of Camels. Neither boy said anything for a long time, Billy picking at taco in his lap and Steve chain smoking. Finally, Steve turned to Billy, his eyes brows furrowed.

"If I try something, do you promise not to hit me?" He asked, moving closer to Billy. Billy glared at him through his swollen eye, swallowing his food.

"No," he responded, studying Steve's face as he moved closer.

"Didn't think so," Steve whispered, propping himself with his right arm as he wrapped his left hand around the back of Billy's neck. Without breaking eye contact, he moved closer to the boy, only to have Billy stop him with a hand on his chest.

"I don't think so, Pretty Boy," he whispered, ducking his head away from Steve's head. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm sure it would be such an image to see those pretty lips around my dick or you riding me. But don't think that just 'cause I had a boyfriend doesn't mean you can just do with me as you please."

"Oh, um, yeah," Steve mumbled, sitting back as if he'd been struck. He was too high for this and the panic was starting to set in. "That was stupid of me. I'm.. I'm sorry. Um, do you need anything? 'Cause I'm probably going to go do, um, homework or some shit. I guess just yell if you need me or something."

"Harrington, come on," Billy moaned, watching as Steve fumbled off the bed and trudged to the door. "Don't act like that, King Steve." He groaned as the door swung shut, left alone with his thoughts.

***  
Thursday afternoon Steve dropped Billy off at his house, chewing nervously on his lip as he watched the broken boy slip his arm out of the sling.

"Dude, that's still healing," he said furrowing his brow.

"Yeah, but it will just piss him off more if I'm wearing it when he gets home," Billy said, his voice sounding less hoarse than it had. As he wrapped his arm around his middle, he turned to Steve. "I...thanks, man. I...Seriously, thank you."

"I, uh. Yeah. No problem, man. Are you sure you should go back, though? I mean..." Steve flicked his eyes back and forth between the molted purple of Billy's face and ominous front door.

"It will be worse if I don't. Susan and I will work something out before he gets here, we'll figure it out. Just...just don't tell anyone, okay?" Steve nodded, clearing his throat.

"Of course. Just, good luck." Billy nodded, giving Steve a small smile that looked more like a grimace as he hauled himself out of the BMW. He knocked on the hood once before slowly walking up to the front door, focusing on not limping.

"Susan?" he called out quietly when he walked into the living room. He cleared his throat painfully, before trying again. "Susan, I'm back." He heard someone gasp and looked up to see his stepmother standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Oh Billy," the woman said tearfully as she took a step towards him. She held a shaky hand up to his face, flinching when he took a step out of her reach. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry he did this to you again."

"Just not sorry enough to step in while he's doing it," he murmured back, ignoring the way she flinched again as if he'd hit her.

"I...I'm not brave enough to try to stop him. But I'm going to try something now. You just have to believe me." Susan reached again, her cold fingers gracing over the gash on his cheek bone before she trailed them down over the bruises covering his throat. Billy held still, swallowing thickly without a response. "I will deal with your father tonight. Just keep your head down, okay?"

Billy searched Susan's face for any indication as to what she was going to do. Finally he sighed, nodding his head.

"Good," Susan said, giving him a small nod. "Your father will be home in half an hour. Can you come help me get dinner ready to prevent him from having any reason to start in on you right away?"

That's how Neil found them, Billy cutting up vegetables for a salad as Susan stirred a large pot of pasta sauce on the stove. As much as Billy hated to admit it, Susan was a better cook than his mother had ever been. Neil didn't acknowledge either of them, simply pulling a beer out of the fridge before leaving the room again. Susan watched the way Billy tensed when his father entered the room and knew she was going the right thing. Hopefully it would be enough.

"Hi mom! Hi Billy," Max called as she came in the house, throwing her backpack on the couch and propping her board again the wall.

"Hi, honey," Susan said, draining a pot of spaghetti, Billy only nodding in response. "Can you wash your hands and set the table. Neil got home this afternoon and we're going to have a family dinner." Max's eyes flicked from her mother to Billy and back again. Finally she nodded moving to do as she was asked.

Billy started to help Max, wincing when he raised his arm above his head to reach a bowl for the shorter girl. Max stared at him with wide-eyes, twirling her hair around her fingers as he gave her a small shake of his head. He moved closer to her before speaking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Whatever your mom says tonight, just go with it. Got it, Squirt?" Max nodded, chewing on her lip as Neil walked into the kitchen.

"This looks wonderful, Susan!" Neil said as he sat down. "Doesn't it, Billy?" Billy nodded, staring down at his plate. Neil banged his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump. "I said doesn't it, Billy? When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response. We've been over this, boy."

Billy cleared his throat, wincing at the pain still there. "It looks great, Susan," he said, looking up to give the woman a small smile.

"That's the spirit. Now, how have things been around here while I was out of town?" He asked as he loaded his plate, passing the bowl off to Max. "He give you any trouble?" Neil said, nodding at Billy.

"Actually, Neil, I wanted to talk to you about him," Susan said, putting down her fork so she could cross her arms in her lap. She shot Billy a nervous look before continuing. "I'm not sure I feel safe with having Billy and Max in the same house anymore. He's...he's just so angry and I'm afraid one of these days it's going to backfire. I think...I think it would be better if he just went to stay at a friends for a while. Just...just not having him here will make me feel better. You understand, right?"

Billy ducked his head, shoulders hunched as his stepmother continued talking. He knew this was apart of Susan's master plan she hadn't shared with him, but it still hurt to hear her talk about him like that. He idly spun his spaghetti on his fork, repeatedly letting it fall off before twirling it again. He could feel his father staring at him, but he refused to look up.

"I know he just tried to run away and I know you just brought him back," Susan continued, placing her hand over Neil's clinched fist on the table. "But I think just sending him to live with a friend for a while will be the best for everyone, Neil." The room was silent for a long moment, the only sound being Max's fork scraping across her plate. Finally, Neil spoke.

"Do you even have any friends, boy? Someplace to go?"

"I, uh, yes, sir. I know someone who would take me," he said, trying to keep the hope out of his voice. Neil nodded, picking up his fork again to continue eating.

"Well then get your shit and go. I expect you to be out within the hour and I don't want to see your ass around this house. But you will not leave town, do you understand me? I will be keeping an eye on you.

"Yes, yes, sir," Billy said as he climbed to his feet, catching the chair before it tipped over. "I'll be gone in ten." He hurried from the room, pausing on the bottom step when his father called his name.

"If I find out you're doing any of that faggot stuff here, what I did to you in San Diego will look like nothing. You understand me? Even if you aren't under my roof, you still represent my good name. You better think of that before you act, boy."

Billy didn't respond, taking the stairs as fast as his bruised ribs allowed to throw as much of his stuff into a bag as he could. He carefully tucked the picture of his mom that he kept in his nightstand into his backpack along with his record collection before throwing his duffle bag over his good shoulder. He took one last glance around his room before pulling the door shut.

Max was sitting on the couch when he went back downstairs, chewing on her thumbnail as she stared at him worriedly. He tried to give her an encouraging smile but he knew it came out as more of a grimace.

"See you later, Squirt," he whispered giving her a knowing look. With the Upside Down always hanging over them, he knew he'd see her soon. With one last glance at his father, he left the house, letting the door slam behind him.

***  
Steve was chain smoking next to the pool, the comforter from his bed wrapped around him. All he could think of was Billy pushing him away after he had tried to kiss him. Steve was still kicking himself for trying anything. This was Billy fucking Hargrove, what the hell was he thinking? Just because the guy had admitted he'd had a boyfriend before and looked so broken laying in the guest room of his parent's house as he told his worst secret doesn't change the fact that this was the guy that had beat his face in literally a month previously.

Sometimes, his dreams would start out promising. Billy straddling him as he laid dizzy on the floor of the Byers kitchen floor. Billy would stare down at him with hooded eyes, his big hands framing Steve's head as he leaned into his space. But then, because his brain was clearly broken after all the trauma the Upside Down caused and years of drinking and smoking, the beautiful boy above him would shift into a Demodog. Or would swing the nail bat repeatedly into his head. Or repeatedly tell him he was bullshit over and over again as he beat his face in. Steve would wake up screaming, tears in his eyes as his heart pounded in his chest.

Billy was a regular part of Steve's nightmares, but still all his broken little brain could think of was pinning the boy to any hard surface and kissing him until he ran out of air. His attraction to the boy was nothing like he'd ever experienced with any girl before. He had spent weeks trying to chase down Nancy, something about her that he needed in his life. He had thought he loved Nancy, this beautiful girl who kept him grounded until she told him she never loved him and he was bullshit.

Billy, however, was different. Billy was all anger and frustration and sharp objects that would hurt anyone that close. But Steve lived for the hidden smiles and dry sense of humor the guy had that no one else seemed to know he had. Billy was a mystery that Steve desperately wanted to solve.

Steve could hear the doorbell ringing, the sound faint out by the pool. He was planning on ignoring it, but who ever was on the other side of the door repeatedly rang the bell. With a groan, Steve climbed to his feet, wrapping the comforter around him tighter as he flicked his cigarette away.

"I'm coming!" He yelled as the doorbell continued to ring. "What?" Steve growled as he threw the door open, mouth falling open as the comforter fell from his shoulders once he saw who was on the other side.

"Hey, Princess," Billy said quietly, shifting from one leg to the other. His arm was back in the sling and he had a bag thrown over his shoulder. He jingled the keys to the Camaro as he chewed on his lip. The cut in his bottom lip had reopened and there were a couple drops of blood on his chin. "My old man kicked me out. I didn't know where else to go..."

"Shit, of course!" Steve said, standing back to let Billy into the house. Billy dropped his duffle bag at the base of the stairs before turning to back to Steve.

"I, uh, thanks. Um, there was something I wanted to tell you earlier, but I...I don't know I guess I was... Anyway, uh," Billy said, taking a tentative step toward Steve.

"What is it?" Steve asked, unconsciously taking a step closer. Instead of responding, Billy grabbed Steve's shirt and yanked him closer. With one last glance into Steve's eyes he roughly pressed their lips together. Steve moaned and once his mouth was open Billy licked into his mouth, catching Steve's lip between his teeth.

Steve wrapped his hand behind Billy's neck, pulling him close as he deepened the kiss. Just when he though he was going to run out of air, Billy pulled back, panting slightly as he ran his tongue over his lower lip.

"What were you going to tell me?" Steve whispered, his hand still wrapped behind Billy's neck.

"You can do what ever you please with me." Steve smirked, pulling Billy close. This was exactly where he was supposed to be.


End file.
